


We can bear this weight

by Silberias



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Mild Kink, Mild Sexual Content, Modern Westeros, Sansa working through some trauma, Sansa-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silberias/pseuds/Silberias
Summary: She could just sit up and they would all fall off.“My love? Are you well?”“Y-yes. Will you add another?”





	We can bear this weight

**Author's Note:**

> Beeecause of reasons?
> 
> There is some very very mild bondage in this fic, nothing extreme or ...very...NSFW. Anyway--I hope that you enjoy this story! It is a bit happier than my last one.

“How are you feeling darling?”

Sansa took a deep breath, shaking just a little as she did. She’d been hesitant to come to Oberyn with her idea--and the decidedly unique way of carrying it out. He had been warm, though, and sweet. If it was what she wanted, he said with a gentle kiss to her forehead, he would see that she got it.

Being tied up and restrained was an unbearable turn-on for her--truly _unbearable_ in every sense of the word. She wanted it, but she wanted to control the experience in a way that went beyond just trusting her partner. Sansa had been kidnapped in college by her then-boyfriend, bound and blindfolded in a locked room. He’d...hurt her and she couldn’t stop him or escape. She’d had no hope of rescue because  she was supposedly backpacking in the Vale and out of cell range. She owed her freedom to one of the bodyguards growing a conscience and calling the police.

Sansa never wanted to be at anyone’s mercy again, not in reality. When she met Oberyn she had been in a place where she didn’t even want to depend on or trust anyone again. She’d slept with him on a rebellious whim, thinking that with his reputation he would discard her and not get attached. That he would teach her how to take and discard lovers like out-of-season clothes. What happened instead was very different. He wasn’t the first man she’d been with since...well...but he was the first one where the sex hadn’t felt like scratching an unfortunate itch.

She was long past equating sex with love but Oberyn had been attentive. He’d responded to even the slightest instruction and read her like a book. As they’d cuddled in the afterglow he had trailed feather light fingertips on her skin, his dark eyes warm, and he hadn’t gone cold on her when she dodged a kiss. Sansa had waited until he was deeply asleep before getting up, her limbs shaky, and locking herself in her bathroom to cry.

Oberyn heard her though and knocked on the door, softly coaxing her to open it and then gathering her up in his arms. Sansa had been mortified, knowing that having to comfort a sobbing woman was the nightmare of most men--especially ones who engaged in one-night stands. If there was a chance of...of...keeping him around it was gone, she’d thought as he sat down on her cold bathroom floor and pressed his lips to her forehead.

He hadn’t run, though. He stayed, and they fell in love. Oberyn did not act like he had a magic penis that solved all of her traumas. Sansa still went to therapy, she still had bad nights, but she also still had fantasies. Fantasies that she felt safe sharing with her lover, hoping he would not make her feel badly for them. Laying on the bed in the spare room now as she was, stretched out like a starfish with oblong massage rocks of a variety of sizes resting on her body, Sansa found herself sure of one thing: Oberyn was probably the only man she would have ever entrusted with this.

She’d bought a set of massage rocks online, wrapping them up in a little towel and putting them in her rice cooker and Oberyn had cuddled with her while the stones heated up. Her anxiety had been up all morning, just the pure similarity to her captivity causing an old panic to rise. Oberyn had softly reminded her, as she’d asked him to, that the rocks were effectively paperweights. She could just sit up and they would all fall off.

“My love? Are you well?”

“Y-yes. Will you add another?”

“Yes, if that is your wish,” Oberyn said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

Sansa sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“It is, please.” He had put down the first stone on her sternum awhile ago, murmuring that now she ‘could not’ sit up. Then there were rocks on the tops of her thighs, the inside of her elbows and on her upturned palms. Nothing would happen if she did something to make one of them fall, this was only an exercise of willpower. Oberyn would immobilize her completely but only because Sansa herself declined to move.

The next stone was hot against the skin of her stomach and Sansa whimpered at the temperature and unexpected weight. Oberyn leaned over her and stroked her cheek--wiping away tears she didn’t know had fallen. Sansa had been too focused on sinking into the comfortable net of self-control to notice that her body didn’t know this was just an illusion. Her breaths had been a bit shaky but now they bordered on sobs.

“Hel--help me,” she got out, clenching her hands around the stones in her palms.

“Do you want help sitting up?” Oberyn’s hands were warm and firm, one on her shoulder and the other on her hip. She shook her head, trying to speak but not finding words, and kept her eyes fixed on her lover’s. Oberyn stroked the skin of her hip, staying quiet as she shivered and cried. Even though Sansa still felt hot tears sliding down her temples the panic was subsiding. She wasn’t alone, she could be free if she wanted. Oberyn would listen to what she wanted. Her eyes drifted closed and she relaxed her hands to lay open once more.

“Sansa?”

“I wish they stayed warmer longer,” she said softly, “I like the heat.”

“We shall have to get more, and practice then with switching them out,” Oberyn’s voice was a bit teasing, but it was affectionate more than anything else. “Do you want me to put a warm towel over you?”

“No--I--I want you to take them off and carry me to bed, You are much better than a warm towel, my love.”

“You know I like to feel useful,” he said with a laugh, kissing her and setting to work taking the massage stones off of her. It was good that she’d asked him to carry her: she felt lightheaded and weak once she was ‘free,’ and once she was curled around Oberyn in bed she could barely keep her eyes open. What she’d gone through would never completely go away but she had survived, and now it seemed that she and Oberyn had hit upon a way to address it in their intimate lives.

"You're stronger than you look, my girl," he murmured into her hair.

"You're a flatterer," she replied, perking up just enough to tease him, "but I think you're right this time."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! If this is the first Oberyn/Sansa fic you are reading and you enjoyed it please give the rest of the tag a look-through! There are some really great fics here of all sorts of styles and flavors!


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